


WIP

by Ladyxael



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Cutting, F/M, Impact Play, Mild Blood, Self-Harm, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyxael/pseuds/Ladyxael
Summary: Therapy is overrated





	WIP

**Author's Note:**

> avoiding triggers = important.  
> Not 100% sure how to tag since it's my first try at something that actually needs tagging.  
> Do not read if squicky about..... Sex. Kink. Emotional instability.
> 
> started as erotica and it morphed into something slighty weirder.

Drowning. Was this what it felt like? That heavy drag of air into unwilling lungs. in - out, in --- out. She maintained oxygen flow through sheer force of will. Fingers shaking as she forced them to unclench, Xael swiped the screen of her phone awake, the sudden light making her squint in the dim light. Some days when the pressure built up too high, she'd call one of the subs she had on retainer. She had one to fit every possible mood, _better than therapy_ \- a sarcastic voice whispered in the back of her mind - even while her quickly fading rational side insisted that _both were necessary_. But **tonight**. Tonight she felt like she hadn't in years. The voices screaming louder and louder in her brain, images and words burning trails behind her eyes every time she closed them. She could feel herself slipping deeper into the darkness with each passing second. It would overwhelm her soon if she didn't do something. Fast. She slammed a fist into the wall, knowing the jolt of adrenaline would keep her moving for at least a while - then put one foot in front of the other until she reached the bathroom. Water - soap - shampoo - water. Rinse. Repeat. Her body worked on autopilot, all her energy focused on blanking out her thoughts enough to stay upright. 

The next time Xael surfaced to awareness, she was dressed. Shorts, long sleeved soft tee, blade already gripped in her hand. Nausea swept through her, but before she could talk herself out of it she swept the knife over the shower-damp skin on her upper thigh. The strip of skin turned white for a moment, matching the dozens of white scars scattered beneath, then it split into red as blood welled up to the surface in slow ruby beads. She stared down unflinchingly - waiting for the pain to hit. Waiting for the clarity, the release. 

A handful of cuts later, the cuts had helped dissipate the haze enough for her to _think_ , a bit more clearly. Both a problem and a relief. A problem, because thinking was what got her into this mess in the first place. A relief, because now maybe she could figure out a better solution than sitting here with increasingly bloody sheets.

Endorphins. She needed silence. to be able to not think. The voices started whispering again, volume growing, demanding, accusing - she shoved a thumb against the cuts and winced as the sharp burst of pain finally shut them up. A half-formed idea swam into the foreground of her brain. Maybe this would work. 

The night was cold, she stood out on the driveway in the gentle suburban murmurs and felt her chest loosen slightly. The cold had always been her friend, or maybe it was the fact that she had a plan. or 37% of one. Xael's lips twisted in an approximation of a smile, she was _great_ at those. Plans. She jolted into a run, the wind rushing past her ears mercifully blocking out the voices. It wouldn't last, but it didn't have to. It just had to be enough to get her there.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pounding on the door, she was vaguely aware that it wasn't polite, but politeness was for when one had time. Politeness was for when you weren't falling apart at the seams.

He opened the door. Sweat pants, chewing, flabbergasted. "Wha- Xael? What the hell. Did you run here?"

"Shit. I'm sorry - dinner - you're eating. I should - " It was ingrained in her to be considerate, polite. Fuck polite - she thought, slightly hysterical even now. Friends, you had to trust them, right? "- I need help."

"Of course. What happened?"

They stepped into the kitchen, leaning against opposite counters. She catalogued details about him, even as she knew he did the same to her. It was just what people like them did. Looking for strengths, weaknesses, even if they didn't plan to use them. He didn't pester her for answers, even with her erratic entrance, testament to how well they knew each other. It helped reaffirm her decision that this was as good an option as any.

"It's been a rough week. I can't make the - " she spun a hand vaguely in the air, " - voices go away. I fight it but it's not working. and i'm running out of options." 

"Ah. Do you want to go out? We can get a drink. Take your mind off things." She could see him relaxing, planning - already turning towards the table to clear away dinner - now that he knew what the problem was, he could fix it. if only it was that easy. 

"No." The word came out harsher than she intended. She took a deep breath and congratulated herself when her voice didn't shake. "I - it's bad. today." Xael pulled up the hem of her shorts, enough to show him the fresh cuts - fresh blood smeared across them from her mad sprint down the road. 

"Xael! We talked about this." Anger and concern fought its way across his face - predictable - her lips twisted briefly. His hands jerked involuntarily, before he pulled them in to cross his arms tightly. He wanted to shake sense into her, she knew from previous conversations, years ago. 

"I know. Hey. I'm sorry." She dropped the hem and forced her arms open and back, hands braced onto the counter behind her. The shirt pulled tighter across her chest. She knew how to use body language to invite as well as repel. "I was trying. I was trying, to make it go away. It didn't work. Look. You're a dom. I know what you can do. I need - needyoutohurtme."

The words left her in a rush, and she waited for long seconds as he processed them. Some part of her disassociated enough to catalogue his reactions. Confusion, comprehension, disbelief. A muscle jumped as his jaw clenched. Furrowed brow. Upset. But interested too, he didn't say no. Yet. 

"That can't be a good idea - "

"You know me. I wouldn't ask unless I was absolutely sure." She left out the glaringly obvious part that she was considering this under extreme duress. From her own brain. 

"Limits? Scope?"

"No sex. I can't. Not today. Pain, the thuddy kind not the sharp kind. Restraints. No sensory dep. I need the endorphins and I need reality to blur out for awhile until I have the energy to have it all back under control."

He's nodding, eyes thoughtful. Xael can see the wheels turning already. It eases the weight a little. Someone's working on this problem with her. 

"I can see how it could help."

"It's alot to ask - " she ignored his eyeroll, "yeah I know, we're friends. But it's still. Weird. Thanks for considering it."

Silence. She watches him, wondering what his next move will be. Familiarity, but still. People surprise you everyday. The tension in the tiny kitchen distracted from the swirling chaos inside her. But it wouldn't last. She opened her mouth, ready with arguments, persuasion, when he stepped across the space separating them and pressed into her personal bubble, the proximity forcing her head back and up to look at him. A test, she knew. If she flinched away, he would step away and say no. Any other day she would have. But tonight, she was falling apart at the seams. Fragile enough that the smothering closeness was an anchor and not a threat. The invisible bands around her chest loosened still further. She looked up unblinking, waiting. His game now. She just had to hold on for the ride. 

"So. You want me to take over? Make the noise stop?"

"Yeah. Yes." Her senses screamed danger at her, even though she knew he would never really _damage_ her, the adrenaline kicked in beautifully. Perfect.

His hand flashed up to tangle in her hair, pulling her head roughly back even further. She winced involuntarily, he smirked. Sadist. He pressed in closer, until they were flush against each other, each breath pushed against the other's ribcage. Her fight or flight response was really kicking in. Being fully aware of what he was doing didn't decrease the efficacy. She was already well on the way to forgetting what had been haunting her.

"Ask me again."

Ah. Another test. As if she's ever done anything she didn't want. but that was the point, wasn't it. She had, it hadn't ended well. And here they were.

Xael blinked open her eyes, surprised to find them closed. She swallowed, watching his eyes as they tracked her bared neck. Deep breath. Be open. Vulnerable. Convince him. She unclenched her hands from the counter, crossing them in the small of her back. Shifted under his weight pinning her to the counter to spread her legs so he fit between them better. She wasn't a sub but she knew from experience what worked. Eyes moving back to lock onto his. Inhale. Exhale.

She bit her bottom lip hard enough to sting. " _Please_ , please hurt me."


End file.
